So I got this game for Christmas
by WittyShenanigans
Summary: "Darlin' you're definitely not in your dorm anymore." Can Mac survive this never-ending nightmare? With the 'help' of a man she doesn't quite trust... at all, Mac must face rapture's horrors, without the safety of a T.V. screen and controller.Sinclair&OC.
1. Welcome to Rapture

Okay, here's the dealio. I just finished playing Bioshock 1 and 2, lame, I know. AND! At two a.m. in the morning, this slithers into my head. Tell me what you think, kay? Cool. I don't own Bioshock unfortunately.

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Click tap, Click tap, Click tap. The repeated process was becoming nauseating, that measly piece of plastic that held the entire package together was refusing to come apart. "You're more trouble than you're worth." I mused in a low, frustrated voice, sliding a black painted fingernail under the rebel plastic, tearing it off with one fierce slash. On the front cover in ironically sparkling letters was 'Bioshock 2'. I eyed it with a morbid fascination before cracking the case open and popping out the CD with care.

Excuse me, my name is Mackenzie Dawn, I'm twenty one years old and I'm as awkward as awkward can be… and this is my story.

It was a Saturday like any other, hectic, but peaceful at the same time. With a silvery disk positioned safely within the workings of my fingers, I pushed the game into the PS3. Only recently had I finished Bioshock one and in no way was I missing out on the second one. Conveniently, I'd received it for Christmas.

Describe myself? I know, twenty-one, I should be out party-ing and raising the roof as one would call it. In all honesty, I prefer time to myself. No, I'm not a shut in. Believe it or not, everyone has their, for lack of a better word, days. I'd like to believe I'm a realistic person. What I mean is, as much as a person would think that in a dire situation, they'd stand up for what they believe in and fight, I feel I'd actually hang back and let things play out. Call me a coward if you'd like, but most people I know can never 'walk the walk'.

Controller gripped tightly in my hands, I went through the process; menu, start, difficulty level, etc. "Better graphics I s'pose." The groggy edge in my voice was most likely because I'd just woken up from a nap and crawled half alive to the unopened game box. I squinted, rubbing my eyes. Perhaps it might have been a good idea to rid my eyes of the excessive rheum.

"_Now take off your helmet." _

Damn it, I was missing a good scene; I had to be, why didn't I just get up and splash some cold, yet refreshing water on my face? Stubbornness? The reluctance to press the start button that would completely pause the game? Or maybe… the honest truth that I couldn't move. My eyes were glued to the screen, every fiber of me felt connected in some way to the events unraveling before my dark eyes.

"_Put the gun next to your head."_

I remember it quickly becoming like a dream, those parts where you suddenly zoom out, realize you're trapped in a dream and fight between reality and fantasy, in a binding state of paralysis. As one would have done in a state of paralysis, I shook my body, wondering if I had even woken up from that wondrous nap.

"_Pull the trigger."_

It was amazing that I still knew what was going on in the game; subject Delta was being torn away from his little girl, a confusing notion seeing the story from a different side. I knew I could get attached to games easily, but this was getting highly ridiculous.

'_BANG'_

Delta's world went immediately to hell, blurring any images that might have burned in his mind the last few seconds. At that point, I remembered wondering, 'What exactly does a Big Daddy look like under his head gear?' Unfortunately, at the exact same time the screen went black, so did my world.

I don't recall the exact time I woke up, but, at that time, I knew it had to be at night. Of all the things that were wrong, the first I noticed was that my back hurt like a mother-effer. The controller was now gone from my dirty hands and somehow, I didn't even notice that my hands weren't supposed to be dirty. The first and most logical thought to blossom in my head was that I'd been kidnapped and about to be chopped into bits and sold by the pound. My mother often filled my head with these ideas when I was little, to scare me from ever going out to much with my friends or trying anything much too risky. Heart rate rising, my brown eyes bulged to incomprehensible sizes as I pushed my body downwards hoping desperately to sink into the ground and appear in my dorm. All I had to do now was wait for the three burly men with chainsaws, in hockey masks, to come and hack me apart. I heard myself sniff pitifully.

That horrendous jabbing in my back turned out to be broken train tracks. Odd, for when I finally stood up on those shaky sticks I actually called legs, I seemed to be in some kind of amusement park. "Abandoned amusement park." Perfect scene for a horror movie to begin. Suddenly, in the distance, I heard a voice, not exactly god-sent, but a voice nonetheless. Blindly, I stumbled towards it, as weary as I was confused. There was a man sitting complacently in a chair, legs crossed, facial features shrouded by darkness. Finally, I tripped on the wooden platform he was placed on. A very thin light from an overhead makeshift lantern beamed onto his plastic nose. Again, I stumbled back, disappointed and even more perplexed at the mechanical puppet. Frowning, I decided to follow the tracks, finding along the way more and more mechanical puppets and tripping more than once on crushed and broken crates. I didn't like this one bit, if someone was playing a joke on me, they would've jumped out at this point, but, yet…nothing.

Being paranoid, I'm pretty known for doing that, I think I picked it up from my relatives, every last one of us is paranoid. Sometimes it comes in handy, like the crowbar clenched tightly within my fingers, yeah, that's from my paranoia. I couldn't have cared less if it was my grandmother, I would've beat the living daylights out of her with that crowbar. Brave soul, aren't I?

"Annie? Is that you?" What do you know? It might have actually been my grandmother. A relaxed and brought my alert senses down a notch. "Where are you?" It didn't take a genius to know that there was something very wrong with that voice; the raspy quality, the dripping fake honey that was coating it. My crowbar was back up; my eyes were like little hummingbirds flitting left, right, up, down. I had half a mind to kneel in the fake shrubbery on the ground.

Then, I saw it.

A woman, definitely a woman, but… no longer a woman. The top half of her face was shielded by a mask, but the rest of her face was enough for my crowbar to drop from my fingers and clang to the ground. I think I also shrieked then, loudly too. Dry and fresh blood coated her grey flesh, dripping steadily from her pointed chin. A grand total of four teeth were missing and the rest were permanently yellow.

"Ah." Best response of the year, I know. The woman whipped her, surprisingly well-kept, blonde hair to peer at me through the masquerade mask. "UH." Weird how I could take in her casual pink dress, torn and dirtied beyond repair, and white purse still dangling from her right arm, but didn't have the sense to bend down and pick up my only weapon. I didn't quite process it then, but she looked almost… happy to see me, but I sure as hell wasn't happy to see her.

"Hello sweetie." Her screechy voice clawed dangerously at my ears. The pearls around her neck swung, her attire suggested that if there was a shred of human in her, she was trying to hold on to it. What was I to do? Bravely bring her down with my crowbar…hell no. I turned tail and ran like a sissy, and frankly, I don't regret it. "Come back!" she shrieked in anger, adding an undertone of a growl. No way , no how was I going back, I sprinted as fast as possible, desperate to get away from the taunting mechanical dummies and that… thing. "Get your ass back here!" Fading! Her voice was fading! "You can't hide forever!" Those four words were enough to chill my bones to a point where if you poked me, I'd just crumble apart.

"I can try." Faster, I ran faster, as fast as my leg muscles could allow, which wasn't too fast. I'm not a freaking athlete. Mustering as much courage as I could bear, a glance was cast over my shoulder. My pace didn't slow, which, unfortunately for me, slammed me face first into a glass wall. From the force at which I was running, my body bounced back with amazing distance. On the cold floor, I sat dazed for the next several moments until everything hit me in a single flash. "Oh my God." Still shaking, on my hands and knees, I began crawling to the glass I'd collided with earlier. My warm auburn hair had slipped from its bun and I was in no mood to tie it back. A horrible knot formed in the middle of my stomach as I pressed my hands against the glass, leaning on it to pull myself up, quaking more than ever before.

My face re-molded itself into one of pure shock and disbelief at what lay beyond the glass barrier. I tried to stop my lower lip from quivering, but that was kind of hard, considering that I was somewhere beneath the goddamn ocean! Fisting my hands on the glass, a new layer of cold encased my body in an unforgiving layer of fear. It was impossible and would take more than forever to process in my brain, but by some inconceivable means… I'd ended up in the so-called utopia, where no other powers exist other than man. The very world Andrew Ryan strove to create; ruined and betrayed by whom he considered 'the weak'. I was in the vast underwater city of Rapture.

I think I fainted then.

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Thanks for reading.


	2. Ms Rainbow

DestinyIntertwined: OH FIRST REVIEW! Thank you so much, I didn't think anyone read this. I know I don't update, but this really was a confidence booster.

Spazm: Thanks so much. I actually do have some interesting things planned, and you have no idea how happy it makes me that you told me my writing isn't bad. :{D

shadowelf144: B'aaaaaw, thanks. I giggled at your review and it made my day a little bit better. College crap and whatnot… but THANKS FOR READING!

Thank you to everyone who favorite-ed and whatnot, makes me very happy person.

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Water dripped at a steady constant rate from who knows where. A disturbingly haunting voice reverberated off the glass walls and slithered tauntingly into my sensitive ears. After navigating past broken ride cars and fake mechanical puppets and finding myself in the worst possible place on the face of this earth, I considered myself to be handling this pretty well! If you consider fearfully crouched in a corner looking no better than the Splicers roaming around the area… 'pretty well'. Another defenseless puppet had suffered the wrath of me ripping off one of its arms for protection. I can't say for how long exactly I was sitting there, but it felt like hours. Absentmindedly, I began touching the fabric on my slippers, fluffy, soft, damp, and dirty. I didn't tell you did I? When I meant I woke up from a nap, I really did just wake up from a nap, pajamas from head to toe.

There was one thing I knew for sure, playing the game was much different than living it, I figured that much right away. The dank smell wafting through the air, the most disturbing scenes one could ever think of, and bodies… I'd never seen a real dead body before and this; this was the real thing, decomposing flesh and all. And the writing scrawled messily upon the peeling walls, surrounded by dying candles in a very shrine-like setting, caught more than a glance from me. "She is our Salvation." I had kept my voice a whisper when I'd read it, determined to avoid any encounters with Splicers. A large wet circle had pooled on my thin pajamas, soaking my butt and part of my thigh. I couldn't stay like this forever, there was a way out of here, and this game had to have an ending.

My steps slow and steady, I moved, cautious and jittery to say the least. Much more than once, distant voices traversed the halls, some conversing, mostly complaining. I took great pains to avoid them, growing chillier with each step. One voice in particular grew louder, more distinct. Instantly, I dropped… straight into a puddle of leaked water. Gasping back a silent scream, I clasped a hand tightly over my mouth, breathing unevenly. Floating in the water was a former white porcelain mask. Even I knew its worth when I picked it up, apprehensive at whether there was still a face or traces of any flesh still attached. Luckily there wasn't. "This could work." I encouraged, tying the mask to my face, disregarding the dirty water sliding down my pale cheeks.

Rabbit mask on my eyes, rainbow polka-dots on my body, and armed with a mechanical….arm, I trekked past the park entrance, my confidence a tad bit higher than before. How was I supposed to get home? I pondered being deemed as a missing person, but who would think far enough to look under the ocean? Was I even in my own universe or a parallel one? After all, I'd been sucked into a game. If I did emerge from the ocean and see the surface again would it be my world, or not? A perpetual hand stuck itself into my head and yanked me harshly from my thoughts. What was that hand? What else…

"Intruder!" Naturally, I yelped and ran, and still had the audacity to glance back. This one didn't have a mask in his possession and I distinctly recollect how much it needed one. The Splicer, a man, had bulging white, colorless, eyes the size of apples yearning for a chance to pop out of the socket. His lips were jagged and fixed into an unsightly smile, oozing blood. A tip for you, never look back when you're running forward, you'll have a tendency to trip. Upon losing my footing, my arms flew up to cover my face and head as I curled into a perfect circle on the floor. Whoop-dee-doo.

'BLAM' I knew the sound of a gunshot when I heard one. Especially one so loudly, my earwax probably started having a hoedown in there. Realizing I had no more dignity to spare, I squeaked pathetically and lowered my head, inhaling fresh blood.

"Jus' who're you tryin' to fool kid?" Like a dead fish, I flopped over to peek at my savior or murderer… can't be too quick to judge, even with an accent like that. Towering above me and the dead Splicer was a character I hadn't seen before; his hair was, probably at one point jet black, now streaked with gray, his age showing through. Bland looking in my opinion… and fat too. Okay, not fat, but he did harbor a kind of noticeable muffin top. Smoke floated slowly away from the man's pistol even as he placed it back on the holster around his hip.

I opened my mouth, but nothing more than a pathetic groan slipped past my lips. One of the man's eyebrows rose in obvious question, "You're gonna have to speak up there now." Thing was, I didn't want to speak up; I wanted to go home and crawl under my covers and ferment.

"How do I get out of here?" My voice had definitely changed since I'd arrived; it had been slowly getting feebler and feebler. My slow mental decline was proceeding at a constant rate.

"Ah, looks to me like we're on the same leakin' boat." You have no idea how much I wanted to say, 'So you got sucked into a videogame too?', but bit my dry tongue. "Now, I propose you come on this 'ere train with me…" With a certain amount of difficulty, he crouched and gently slid off my white mask, "Unless, you got a better idea up that rainbow sleeve o' yours kid. Hm? Or perhaps you prefer to spend a night alone with them Splicers." Ignoring the reference to my pajamas, my eyes slowly went to glance at the train; maybe this was why it was called the Atlantic express.

"Why…are you-." He'd already gotten up and started to walk off, but didn't fail to cut me off mid-sentence.

"It's fun to watch a fish on the land kid, but it thanks you more when you put it back in the water." No comment on my part. "Now I do intend to keep to civil formalities; name's Augustus Sinclair."

"Mackenzie Dawn." Damp, cold, and thirsty, I followed after him, wondering if that train really did go to the surface.

"Ms. Dawn, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The ups and downs in his accented voice made me almost smile. Even so, I'd played enough games to know that the nicest characters turn and stab you in the back later. Atlas… for example.

Either way, it was going to be a long ride.

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Thanks much for reading.


	3. Oh, they hit puberty

theifkingbakura1: Thanks so much for reading! I'm thinking about that idea actually, might be good to get her out of the train. Hahahaha.

: Aww, thanks, I'm glad people actually read this. It's going to bit slowly right now, but it'll pick up later.

rchris48: Thank you, this is a great confidence boost for me. As I said, it's going a touch slowly right now, but there'll be some lovely messes Mac gets herself into

Mio: YOU, I will honestly say your review did it. I was checking through my college crap in my email when I stumbled upon your review which made me fire up the old word document again and write. Thanks.

THANK YOU EVERYBODY WHO CONTRIBUTED TO HELPING MY CONFIDENCE. I'm not a very good writer, but little reviews still make me feel good. Thank you to everyone who favorited too.

CH 3

Dust misted windows made it unfeasible to catch a peak outside. Fluffy slippers soaked in muddy water; I trudged along, acting like a tourist, rubbernecking all over the place. Might have been the fact that this Sinclair man was now here, but there was a grand sense of security wrapping around me, fluffier than any conceivable blanket in the world. I guess, if I'm stuck in a game, I might as well enjoy it. Hey, it might make a good story to tell, you know, if I live and all. The question still circulating around in my head went full circle again, 'Was the surface world here the same as mine?' If that was the case, I'd gone back in time…

You know, maybe I'd worry about that when I actually reached that place in one piece.

"Ain't exactly a five star hotel, but, s'all we got right now…" Oh how right he was, I thought, sitting down on one of the faded russet seats of the train. A blob of coarse cotton leaked out from a broken stitch in the fabric. Though, while examining my new surroundings, I suppose this place must have been pretty amazing back in the day. "Go on, make yourself comfortable." As if reading my mind he added, "This used to be quite the wonder, back a'fore Rapture went straight to hell o' course. I do dare to say it was faster than a bullet." This guy was sure quite the talker. He literally talked the whole time my shock was slowly wearing off. "Tell me somethin' kid." Incredulously, he eyed my attire as if I were sprouting extra limbs from beneath my bathrobe, "What's a fine lil' lady like you doin' in that getup?" Already feeling the red creep up my cheeks at an embarrassing rate, I lowered my upper lip until it covered my bottom lip and glanced downward at my … pajamas.

"None of your business." I snapped defensively, wishing I could sink deeper and deeper into the chair. Waking myself up wasn't an option; an experiment was already conducted unsuccessfully a while ago.

"Whoah, hold on there, I meant no offense." The seriousness ruined by his amused chuckle. "But I can't have you walkin' round Rapture lookin' like a Splicer beacon." A pause, "'Specially when you're with me." There was some reason in his words.

"Uh, Mr… Sinclair? Are we going to go anywhere anytime soon?" Could anyone really blame me that I was getting impatient, I wanted out and Mister. HappyOptimisticFatman here was, essentially, going on and on and on and on and on, well, you get the point. Also, I wanted his attention off my outfit. "I mean, why are we still here?" Why would he want to be here? "So if we could just get this lovely thing started, I-." A hand clamped over my mouth faster than any flyswatter in existence. Muffling in protest, I was sneakily edging my mouth open to bite into his dirty hand, who knows where it had been? Quietly, he moved behind me, hand firmly in place. I felt the cushion behind me sink to his weight. Wriggling at the unwanted physical contact, my whiny, wordless noises became louder.

"Shh, hush lil' Rainbow."

Lil' Rainbow? Cute…

Those words could've sounded _very_ wrong had they not been laced with firm urgency. Unexpectedly, I obeyed, inhaling through my nose, my only way of sending oxygen to my lungs. A very light, but still detectable, scent of cigarette and cheap wine filled my nostrils, reminding me of the Las Vegas casino's daily regulars. I heard the bones crack in my upper back when I turned to glance at Sinclair behind me, his features taut with worry, wrinkles showing through even more. When I finally decided to follow his line of sight, I almost didn't believe what I saw.

Someone or something, if possible, propelled itself across the room with incredible speed, landing on an unstable rafter with uncanny acrobatic grace. I would've gasped if not for the hand over my mouth. The… thing crouched low, as if waiting for another, allowing me to take the opportunity to scrutinize it for a bit. Wearing a suit much similar to the Big Daddies, this one had a form fitting suit, with one bright glowing porthole to see out of, an oxygen tank attached to its back, and a giant needle on its arm. Also, it didn't take an idiot to see it was much faster and built for a different purpose. I was actually grateful for the gathered mist on the window, considering that creepy thing didn't see us. After the tension subsided, I found myself trying to lower the heartbeats killing my chest faster than a battalion of drums.

The weight behind me shifted, meaning Sinclair was moving, but what for? As a matter of fact, as I turned, I found he was reaching for something. Oh hell, I would've killed him if he were reaching for a gun, I would've very much appreciated it if he started a fight with that flying squirrel thing after I hid safely under the train car. But, no, he wasn't going for his pistol. Taking his hand off my mouth, probably assuming I understood the situation, his hand was outstretching for a small radio-like object. A light bulb clicked on in my jumbled mess of a head; that was the radio they'd used in the first game.

Crap, the next issue I had was what level I had set this game to, was I expected to complete it? Oh, and cheat codes, yes, that would prove to be very helpful as of right now. There was just one thing missing, a controller and a T.V. An ear-splitting shriek boomed, bouncing on the walls of the Atlantic Express station, stabbing my brain at an alarming rate. It was loud enough that both of my hands involuntarily clamped over my ears. Squinting an eye open, the creature leaped from its perch, somersaulted in the air and sprinted in the opposite direction of the train. For my sake and the risk of these train seats becoming absolutely soiled, the thing might have done that on purpose.

"Sport, Big Sister a'headed your way." Just the man's soft, breathy voice made me flinch from the state I was currently cursed with. Who was this 'sport' character? Because I was ready to bet that this guy wasn't the main character.

"What." I breathed cautiously, "…was that?" A gulp caught in my throat. The older man placed his communication radio on the seat, turning to the girl with a grim look.

"That, Ms Dawn, was a Big Sister."

"So, uh, Little Sisters who've hit puberty?" I muttered bitterly. The man turned to me with an incredulous look in his eye. Then laughed much louder than I thought he would.

"I 'spose you could look at it like that." He chuckled and disappeared for a moment. I was about to start squeaking and maybe crying, until he reappeared with a pile of cloth in his arms. "I wouldn' ask where these came from." My mouth wide open in protest as the dirty, stained clothes were plopped down into my lap. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth, hm?" For what seemed like hours, I stared at the clothing in my lap. He wasn't expecting me to change here was he? No way in hell was that happening.

My body pitched forward at a sudden weight on the train. "Sinclair!" I shrieked, a bit irritated by his nonchalance. "Someone's on the train." My breathing quickened until his hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"Calm down now, kid." Calm? Did he seriously just say that to me when there was some hulking mass of whatever getting on the train? How badly would the game get messed up if she slapped him in the face? This was too damn real, even his touch felt… human. I sputtered incoherently. A smile stretched across his lips, apparently finding my flustered actions amusing. "That up there's Subject Delta." Yes, I knew exactly what he was talking about, especially by the confusion evident in my eyes. "The very first genuine Big Daddy ever made."

"Delta." I tested the word on my tongue, curious. Was this the same Big Daddy in the intro of the game? I might have found the main character by now. Before I knew it, the train started moving, "Er, where are we going?" My eyes went to the man.

"Straight ta' Pauper's drop Ms. Dawn."

"You can call me Mac." I offered with a small smile.

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Thanks much for reading.


	4. Like a Lamb to a slaughter

**AHH, I haven't updated for a while. I will be more diligent about it now. I also feel I must share a sad event with you guys. About a week ago, my mother got so angry she threw my ps3 and broke it (my reward for agreeing to commute freshman year). BUT, she bought me an xbox 360 as compensation. HEE**

**Mio: Yee, of course I updated. Hope you like this chapter. It might be a bit longer than usual.**

**Theifkingbakura1: Ahahahaha, Oh Mac. Actually, I might have twisted that part up a bit, as you'll see by the end of this chapter. D'awww, thanks for reading. C:**

**GhostCarAd: Oh really? {/so happy} Such a great source of motivation Thanks so much for reading and reviewing with such kind words.**

**MusicFiend666: Totes dude. Well, she'll be picking up plasmids and guns for sure, but maybe not in the way you think, as you'll see in this chapter. Because seriously, Mac's sort of... well, a wimp. {/shot}**

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There's a fine line between things I will do, might do, and simply will not do. Most occasions, I find it wise to suck it up and move on for the sake of others. No, I'm not a people pleaser, I just find it rather shady to ruin another person's good time. Though, honestly, I wasn't totally sure where to put stripping down in a video game and putting on bloody torn up garbs to replace my fluffy pajamas. What made it infinitely worse was the older man sitting directly across from me, jabbering as if there were no tomorrow. Man, he could talk. I'd barely squeezed in a couple sentences over his accented drawl. It was kind of cute when I thought about it… long and hard enough. The male lit a cigar and placed it between his lips. Smoke swirled to mix in with the dank air. Finally there was a moment of silence between us when my eyes went downward to the clothes in my lap. I felt Sinclair's eyes burning through my skull, maybe at most of my cynical or sadistic responses to his questions. In my defense, I was hours away from home and maybe a couple decades as well.

"Have a look on' outside, kid." The cheery tone in his voice was irritating, and I was getting a sense that it might have been fake. I'd been around enough car salesmen to recognize this sort of voice. Nevertheless, I complied, twisting my body over to catch a glimpse of where we were. A soft, yet audible, gasp emitted from my lips. We were underwater! My God, it was beautiful. The azure tint engulfed a canvas of bright greens and reds. Coral sprouted in creative branches, winding and climbing along the city that was Rapture. Another confirmation that everything was different from behind a screen, fish swam about, their rainbow hues blinding to the human eye. Even through the murky glass, the sheer wonder of it was apparent.

With my face still stuck in awe, I returned my gaze to the business man. The moment we made eye contact, the cigar nearly fell out of his mouth due to his laughter. It didn't take to long for me to figure out that my face must have looked ridiculous. His stomach practically jiggled from how hearty his laugh had been. As quickly as it had appeared, the expression dissipated from my face, slightly embarrassed, "It's not that funny…" Sinclair stopped a moment, furrowing his brow in amusement, accenting his wrinkles. The white lines that streaked the side of his head were barely visible in this light. I could hardly decipher why he was so entertained, I wasn't exactly the dullest person around, but I was in no way the happy bubbly types people commended so. "Er." Yearning for a change of subject, "So, how're you not a Splicer?" Not the best way to word it, "I mean, how're you still alive." That wasn't good either, earning her an eyebrow raise.

"Hidin' out, layin' low. Works pretty good if you ask me." At least he was honest. "Rapture's business was a'boomin when I was involved in it." Sinclair radiated an aura of great pride. "Till a lil' certain something happened." His head tilted to the window.

"Gee, I wonder what?" I growled sarcastically. Okay, maybe I'm not the nicest person, but I am realistic and aware of my actions. Before he could throw back some smart ass comment, the train shook and a hideous roaring vibrated my eardrums to shattering point. "Hngh, that sounded like a splicer on steroids." My hands were over my ears again, blocking out unwelcome noises. Sinclair rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat. To glance out my window.

"You know somethin' Rainbow?" Oh how I wanted to smack that smile off his face, "You might actually be right." A horrified expression plastered itself onto my face.

"Attention family, Subject Delta has been spotted…" As if things could get any worse, I had been travelling with the most wanted guy in Rapture. Legitimately mortified, I resorted to the one thing I knew how to do when I was scared. Curse vehemently at the closest person.

"What the hell is going on? Who the shit is that?" It was a woman from the sound of it; an authoritative person who seemed to be able to control splicers as if they were simply her minions. She must have been insane to be able to pull that off. Wait, there had been a woman at the beginning of the game who'd ordered a Big Daddy to shoot himself in the head. Their voices were very similar, but I couldn't completely decipher it through the train and loudspeaker.

"Easy there Rainbow." Really? Again?

"You and I need to have a very serious talk about my real name." Hissing with all the venom I could produce, he took a small step back as if I were some wild animal. Eventually, I calmed, leaning back in my seat and pressing my face to my hands. I wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't my problem. My problems consisted of midterms, family, friends, what I was going to be having for dinner tonight, how I was going to pay next semester's tuition, and what matched with my new top. "And I stink." True fact, when I'd inhaled a whole bunch of terrible odors all emanating from my body stung my nostrils. In my defense, I hadn't showered in two days and I had been in rapture for ten hours, sitting around in a dirty train.

"Pardon?" Obviously confused at the last comment I made, Sinclair frowned, "Tell you what." He started cautiously, "I'll take you to get clean, an' you settle down, deal?" Like a child who had been offered candy in spite of her state of despair, I nodded sadly, accepting the compensation.

I would've thought this to be really hilarious if anyone else were doing it. Then again, it was a whole different story when you're the one in said scenario. Under the coaxing of Sinclair, I took a deep breath and stepped off the Atlantic express. Pistol in hand, he continued forward with me trailing behind him like a lost puppy. That shortwave radio was back in the man's hands again, he was talking to Delta about getting an Override key to start up the train again. I remained quiet, somewhat irked by the volume in which he was talking. We weren't strolling through a park for crying out loud, but he sure as hell made it sound like we were.

Advertisements and posters plastered onto the dirty walls, some torn and others still fighting for their place, overlapping its neighbors for attention. "Do you have family, Sinclair?" He switched the radio off, curiously angling his head to his younger companion.

"Naw." The reply wasn't without much thought or regret slathered onto it, "Can't get anywhere with somethin' like that holdin you back." I contemplated his answer for a few paces, averting my eyes from any corpses or disturbing writings on the wall. My auburn hair fell near my eyes, blocking a small section of my vision.

"Wouldn't you miss the company of a family?" Being specific, "You know, like caring and whatnot?" The piece of hair that fell over my eye obstructed my view of a small piece of dislocated rubble. Naturally, I stumbled, only to feel a firm grasp around my forearm.

"Careful now." My companion grunted, hauling me to my feet, "Never really cared much. Can't miss somethin' you never had." There was truth in his words, "I 'ave all the comfort I need in this here utopia." Any sarcasm in there was lost on me. In the train, Sinclair had spoken for hours about his successful businesses. Perhaps, that was what he meant? The man walking in front of me halted so abruptly I almost smashed into him. "Go on, get yourself clean."

He was joking, he had to be. Mother of God.

I was surprised I could even recognize the gentleman and ladies sign on the grime slathered walls. My face twisted in sheer disgust as I looked incredulously at the older man. A knowing look was shot back at me, as well as a very unappealing smirk. Utter madness, he couldn't have expected me to… oh, but he did. Granted, I'd asked for it.

An unidentifiable object squished under my foot upon my very first step into the bathroom. My facial expression contorted exceptionally as I ventured further into the bathroom. All notions of sunshine had been erased from my mind. Perhaps, something all the citizens of rapture had grown used to. Unfortunately, the idea of a crazed serial killers being on the loose did well in hindering the solace I could've found here. Naturally, my jaw tightened at the thought. Death was everywhere. It rose from the horizon like a plume of black smoke – drifted on the wind in the form of mold, and the heavy scent of rot, and decay. My foot tapped against a lifeless body. I yelped at the cracked mask. And the cold face of the creature behind it all, pale alabaster skin, long raven hair, and those terrible, insane cerulean eyes, boring into the very soul of who, or whatever they settled on. It was a far cry from the person this man used to be. Hardly the same man, any more. No, he'd become a monster.

I paused before approaching the sink. How clean could the water be if the bathroom was in this sort of state? The sound of a screaming bullet exploded through the air. "Sinclair?" This didn't seem like a good idea anymore. A monstrous bellowing bounced along the bathroom walls, followed by a familiar voice crying out in pain. Another gunshot followed by deep, distorted laughter. "Sinclair!" Without thinking, I broke into a sprint for the bathroom entrance, totally neglecting my life lesson of 'think before you act'.

Well shit.

My stare fell immediately on the towering beast hunched over like a gorilla. Large bulbous sores ran up its arms, red around the outside and oozing a yellow substance. Gawking at its enormous size and musculature, I died a little inside when it turned its deformed face to mine. The left side of its face was occupied by red, swirling tendrils that crawled around his eye socket. Its expression reading of nothing but ill-will. Despite all that, the sickly colored creature still sported a faded navy vest over a beige dress shirt.

"Mac..." A strained voice called out. On the ground, Sinclair struggled to return to his feet. Mac! He'd called me Mac! Hardly a time to be glad about that... seriously.

"Well lookie here." Wild eyes latched themselves onto my form. A throaty laugh rumbled within the brute splicer's throat as it moved closer towards my paralyzed body. Sinclair was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear. My hearing had been ripped from me as well as my running function. Then it happened. I was in denial about it and under the naïve belief that a splicer could still have a heart. The brute splicer charged straight for me. My scream was cut short by the sheer force that the monster had slammed into me with.

Splitting headache? Check. Broken bone? Check. Sinclair? What vaguely resembled a control room greeted my vision upon my awakening. Granted, there was no other color variation besides black and brown, but the room appeared to be a bit more well managed than the other areas of rapture. I tried to bring my left hand to rub my eye, but found it to be tightly restrained by a certain type of bind. Blinking furiously, my brain took the time to register a few more predicaments I'd have to face. One, I was tied to a chair. Two, where was Sinclair?

"Hello." A very sharply dressed woman approached me, adjusting her pointed glasses. Wait, this was the woman that Sinclair had spoken about as well as the woman at the very beginning of the game. Her voice had a highly stern quality when she spoke. Blank were her angular features as she took another step, closing the distance between us. If anyone had tied me up like this, they were not friendly. What else had Sinclair said about this woman? Eleanor, yes, that girl Delta was desperately scouring Rapture for. "I am Sofia Lamb." The man had also explained that she was responsible for the Big Sisters running around. Every muscle under my skin tensed in hopes of loosening the bonds.

"And you..." Two, pale slender fingertips pushed gently against my chin so my gaze would meet hers. "... are my newest experiment." Lamb's dark red lips curled up into a venomous smile.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Rebirth

**I think I signed my death warrant by opting to write this in first person. Murp. oAo SO DIFFICULT. If it wasn't obvious, this story is about to take a giant turn. This is why Witty shouldn't be allowed to write at three a.m. With a cup of mocha for company. Guys, I'm totes open for suggestions. {/shot} No, seriously, I'll take them into consideration and probably implement them.**

**DreamOrNightmare: Oh, you're good. C: Yeah, I hate her. I made the mistake of being a good person in the game and allowed her to live. I love how they gave me an OPTION to kill EVERYONE, EXCEPT the character I cared about the most. Thanks so much for reading!**

**MusicFiend666: NOPES. You're quite right, quite right. I realize how terrible a decision this was to write in first person. And since I don't enjoy those oh-let's-switch-POV-things, this could get disastrous pretty fast. Thought I'd apologize ahead of time.**

**Mio: D'aawww. I know what you mean. I have to listen to music while writing this. Then a happy fluffy song comes on while I'm attempting to type the first half of this chapter and I frown. Ugh, Lamb. I have something special in store for her. C: **

**deganky: Yee! Thanks so much! But with the way my brain is working, the next few chapters can easily swirl down the toilet. Poor planning decisions and too much improvising. But thanks so much for the encouragement. {/happyface}**

**Experiment G1T8L1: This is slightly based off a dream. A very horrifying, traumatizing dream. Although, I woke up and decided to write a story about it. YEE. Anyways! Thanks for reading! And reviewing!**

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Screaming, kicking, wailing, and crying only made the end worse as it came. "For the good of the family." Those words lingered in my head long after the owner of them had put me in an enclosed observation room. As hazy as I was, most of the details here will always remain indescribable. Pain came from all angles, exploding against the curves of my form, forcing my body to arch in all formations. Needles, hundreds—no—thousands sank into my skin, releasing whatever concoction Lamb had put in there. Though, my mind did not register the process until later, the toxins were gradually slithering up to my brain. Lamb's voice echoed in my ears, hers alone; speaking to me in a soft, yet commanding, voice.

My mother.

How long would it last?

My shrieking that would prove fruitless against the overbearing machinery drilling into my vital organs, rose to a glass breaking pitch. An invisible vacuum commenced its task of sucking from me whatever sanity I had retained upon my arrival in Rapture. Writhing hysterically against my restraints, my vision flooded over with grainy sand as I braced myself by scraping my nails against the surface under me, creating a cacophonous noise. Tides and tides of acid washed over my body, provoking more spastic squirming. My consciousness fought for control several times. And yet, each time, I awoke to a new and rare pain. What was it, the third time? Fourth time? A time bomb exploded in my cranium, splattering my brain against walls of my head. My heart slammed violently against my ribcage, begging to burst free. The yelling ceased, as did the incessant thrashing.

A birthday? Did I ever have one of those things? Irrelevant.

How many minutes... hours...days had it been? Languidly, my bottomless pit eyes blinked slowly. A blanket of numbness ran over my body, and suddenly my fingers couldn't move anymore. Actually, none of me would move anymore. I was suddenly very aware of what people meant when they said they were entombed in their own bodies. This was everything I had worked for. Pain was not an issue if the outcome would ensure the safety of what Mother worked so hard to achieve. Iron grips clasped around my bruised forearms and hauled me to my feet. I went slack against their hold, feeling the wet crimson slide down my arms and legs. An electric surge jolted along my veins. Legs limply dragging across the floor, I made no effort to try and move them. Clouded faces traversed about the room. Blankly, I watched—not the least bit intrigued by their purpose or presence. How did I end up here? Did I ever have a life before this? These dismal surroundings were home. The only home I'd ever known. And one day, they would ultimately be restored to their former glory. Time was of the essence. Only the glow at the end of the long corridor, and a few dim florescent bulbs served to illuminate the concrete path.

A light voice crooned gently in my ear, comforting me. That was the only voice I would ever heed the call of for the rest of my life. Catching a glimpse of a reflective surface, I noticed the haunting eyes staring back at me. Gently, a hand laid itself on my shoulder, guiding me to my back. As always, I complied, feeling the cool table against my back.

I was the future of Rapture. The crucial piece of the puzzle.

A heavy device was latched to my head with a subtle click. Any form of movement would have been impossible. And, just like that, with a simple snap of a finger, it began all over again. This time, all the agony stemmed from the needles pushing into my brain. Black and blue lines streaked across my vision, leaving behind a large smear of charcoal. Although this time, not a single utterance came from my person. The stillness of the room would have been ashamed at how quiet I was being. Eyes blank and aimed at the ceiling, I came to understand that a certain numbness had blanketed itself over my previously shivering body. My eyes remained open, welcoming the pain like an old, long-awaited friend.

I was a mess... No. I was reborn.

Another black out. This time was much more obvious though. I dreamt about a foreign place with an odd square contraption that very much resembled a screen. Other than that, the room was small and quite plain in style, save for the copious amounts of paper on a desk in the corner.

The next time my eyes opened, I was back in my uniform. It had become something of a second skin to me; I hardly noticed it. Sitting up, I peered out from the circular porthole, my back leaving the softness of the bed behind me. Mother? How long had she been sitting there? What had happened during my absence? I would not disappoint Mother as the others before me had.

"What is your name?" My name? Mother had a tendency to ask odd questions. Listless eyes took comfort in Mother's azure ones, returning my cool gaze. Upon my prolonged silence, Mother's smile spread across her pale face, "Good. Now sleep." Sand bunched up in my eyes, drowsiness wrapping itself around me. Leaning back against the pillow, I obeyed.

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'She is our Savlvation' scrawled in dripping, dirty sanguine on the murky walls of our beloved Rapture glowed in luminescent light, surrounded by melting, drooping candles on the verge of their demise. Water dripped at a steady rate from who-knows-where… possibly from one of the unchecked leaks scattered around the hidden area. Any sound or tiny noise would reverberate through the walls and irritate any creature that happened to saunter by. Though, this all went unnoticed by the unmoving figure on the floor, his body half consumed by a dark puddle of water. His face was permanently stuck in one of absolute horror. That didn't quite matter to the long, metal, needle embedded deeply into the man's back. Yes, that wrist-mounted needle was connected to something. At first glance it would appear to be a form-fitting diving suit built from scavenged objects, but when you do something stupid, you find that it's a weapon of mass destruction. The glowing red light from the porthole on the sphere's helmet shined down on the, very much dead, victim on the floor as the needle was forcefully yanked out. What had his name been? Darren Johnston? Didn't matter.

Metal boots clunked and splashed against the hard terrain. An earpiece inside of the Big Sister's helmet buzzed to life. "Very good." Mother's voice purred into my ears, "No doubt he was carrying on works behind our backs. You may now attend to your other business." No voice returned a reply, there was no need to, or I found lack in a reason to at least. Not even the enormous needle or rivet gun attached to my arms weighed me down anymore. As a matter-of-fact, admitted with pride, I happened to be considered one of the most agile and acrobatic of the Big Sister line, but, only with my suit as assistance . The small oxygen tank on my back allowed me to breath acceptably well under water whenever a leak required some patching, which seemed to be the case right now. The dripping mentioned before hadn't stopped and was really getting annoying.

Before too long had passed, an agonized voice boomed through the hallways, identified as a Big Daddy. Feeling a touch displeased, I leapt upwards with incredible distance, landing on an unstable rafter. The world around me blurred as I sprinted in the general direction of the noise. With unmatched speed and power, my body sprang from the balcony, ducking under the long hallway, propelling like an insistent torpedo through thick water. I knew my target before I even saw it; five Splicers. Rivet gun pointed, two bullets flew and came in contact with their destinations perfectly. The other three turned away from the Little Sister they had surrounded. One disappeared into the air, deeming it a Houdini Splicer. The Spider Splicer made a leap for me, its hook hands, literally, scraping the side of my helmet. I screeched, loudly and angrily, as my head inside the helmet felt the hard impact. Feeling a surge of ADAM shoot through my body, an large orange flame burgeoned on my hands, shooting forward, engulfing the Splicer in a furious fire.

Another deranged-sounding scream released itself from my throat as four bullets slammed against my shoulder blade. Three pierced through the metal and hit flesh. Though they didn't completely break the flesh, a red-purple-green, unsightly bruise would occupy my left shoulder down to the mid-back. A prompt use of Telekinesis silenced the gunshots.

"You won't get away from me, you bitch!" The Houdini shrieked, reappearing within a thirty foot radius from me. My rivet gun went up and a nice round bullet planted itself into the Splicer's forehead. Almost threateningly, I snapped my head to the Little Sister, who gasped and inched away, even with the knowledge that I was a Big Sister. Purposefully, I advanced, harshly grabbing the small child be the forearm.

"Ow no! Please don't hurt me!******"**Her purple dress fluttered as she was dragged to a conveniently placed vent. Roughly, my gloved hands picked up the Little Sister and forcefully pushed her into the hole, just big enough for the child. "Thank you…" A muffled voice called out quietly, hesitantly from the vent, confused by the older girl's actions. Unlike many other Big sisters, I didn't have a basket on my back just large enough to snuggly fit a little sister within its confines. They also had little ribbons tied neatly to them and absurd drawings on their bodies. It's not that I harbored a certain ire for the small things, but had no time to watch over one unless absolutely necessary.

"I do not enjoy this.******"** I mumbled quietly to myself inside my headgear, to no one in particular. When you have no one to talk to, it's damn near impossible to not start conversing merrily with yourself. Growling lowly, the voice escaped the helmet in a menacing undertone. I began sauntering in a sluggish fashion down the hallway.. A rustling noise from under my foot stole my attention as I aimed my vision downwards. A poster about the surface. Mother never brought up the surface, and often times she discouraged any possible discussion on that topic.

No matter, this was my life. It always had been. And always would be.

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**Thanks for reading! I OWN NOTHING, except poorbbyMac.**

**She gave me no other choice, she was being derpy.**


	6. Subject Delta

**If it wasn't too obvious, Mac's memory was totally shot. So now she's just a regular Big Sister who occasionally gets disturbing images of schoolwork. A nightmare indeed.**

**IMPORTANT-ISH! Question for reviewers and anyone who is kind enough to take the time for this: How easily should Mac's memory be returned? Because seriously, who wants to see a Big Sister rocking back and forth in a corner?**

**DreamOrNightmare: Thank you so much for expressing your honest opinion 33 And for sending me that nice PM to further boost my low self esteem. (btw, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE). Poor Mac, can't even remember her name~**

**Experiment G1T8L1: Heck yeah it did. Blew her memory to smithereens too. Eh, something along those lines. C: Hurhurhurhur Lamb.**

**Thank you people who favorited and reviewed. C:**

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If memory served me correctly, Mother had ordered the shut down of all train cars due to some wandering oaf she called Subject Delta. He seemed to be in desperate search for Eleanor; a girl whom I never really cared about, much less wanted to protect, but nevertheless, if Delta were to cross paths with me, the outdated piece of tin would be immediately disposed of. My purpose was to serve, and if Delta was standing between Mother and her perfect Rapture, his elimination was imperative. If the train car shut down was true, then—I moved closer to the large window between myself and the ocean. Why was there a train car functioning on the tracks outside? My eyes narrowed behind the helmet as my fists clenched tightly. Anyone deliberately disobeying an order from Mother was subject to severe punishment. It was strictly my job to carry it out. Delta, I deemed then and there, was a menace to our progress.

After completing the painfully long procedures at the draining station, I shot forward into the sea, my eyes filling with a brilliant blue. Kicking my legs with minimal effort, I was able to move with incredible speed through the azure sea. Locating the train car was simple. Until...

…..

…..

…...

___BOOM_. An explosion disturbed my all too sensitive ears. The impact pushed me back a couple feet, but, nevertheless, I pressed on. Ah yes, Mother had taken the initiative and torpedoed the train. That could only mean one thing; my target, Delta, was a passenger. "You will not escape me." A low, quiet warning that, most likely, no one heard. I kept the train in my sights as it continued, in shambles and filling with water, into Dionysus Park. Persistent opponent I was dealing with here.

When close enough to the train, I pounced upon my helpless prey straight through the train. My metal body had broken through with graceful ease, landing poised with a loud splash. Rivet gun pointed at the ready, my determined eyes glared out from behind the Porthole. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to come in the way I did with a purple-red-green bruised shoulder and four bullets implanted into my armor. Delta would have an advantage over this.

"Surrender!" My voice distorted and made inhuman by the helmet, my words flew out with such conviction, it took me some time to realize that this was not my target. Dark hair streaked with lighter lines of gray stuck to the sides of the man's face. I also took notice of his ever so slightly protruding stomach. "You are not Delta." Snarling, I lowered the gun to get a clearer look. "And you are rather fat." The bitter second comment was actually meant for myself. Rage boiled deep within my gut at knowing I had been completely mistaken.

"Now that's jus' kickin' a fellow when he's down." Blood streamed down the side of his head, possibly from the impact of Mother's torpedo. "I might not be as skinny as those Splicers down in Siren Alley, but that's jus' takin' it a lil' too far, kiddo." Was he... speaking to me? Civilly? Bold indeed. This man was no splicer. The water pouring in had already made it up to my waist. Uneasily, the man grabbed a metal pole for support, his breathing ragged. A conflict stood before me like a firm wall. He was a Rapture citizen, I couldn't leave him here. Mother would disapprove of my actions. There was fear in his eyes, I was sure of that. Though, from being so close to death, or being so close to a Big Sister, I wouldn't know. "I—..." Talkative. I'd never met anyone like that. His words were cut short by my gloved hand grabbing the collar of his shirt. Much similar to how I'd handled the Little Sister earlier, I yanked him forward, hoping he knew how to hold his breath. A short exclamation of surprise from the older man. Faster and harder than a bullet, my metal body shot through the top of the train, creating the third hole. Even if he drowned, wasn't my problem, I tried.

Perhaps I was under the false impression that water was supposed to make people lighter? I stayed with my decision of calling him fat. How bad of an idea this was turning out to be was dawning in my mind. No use, there was only blue for miles around. In my mindless swimming in the flooded Dionysus Park, I spotted the Triton Cinema, a large theater in the south section of Dionysus Park. One of the tallest structures in Dionysus Park. When it was flooded, the Cinema was one of the only places that was partially untouched by water. Half of the upper balcony, the hallway, and the room of the Projection Booth were all above the water line that spoiled the rest of the level. I finally realized the benefit and blinked in surprise, jetting my body towards it… as best as possible with the man attached to my hand.

With all the strength I could muster against the weight of the man and the water, I somehow broke the surface and, not without displaying tremendous effort, hauled the man onto the upper balcony. Chest heaving, I dropped him unceremoniously to the dirty floor, next to the faded sanguine theater seats. There was some water up here, but barely enough to make a puddle, so it should've been fine.

After what seemed like forever, the impossible happened; Dionysus Park was___draining_! Only one thing could've happened if this place was draining itself of water. Someone had activated the drain lock in Siren Alley. Who? How had someone conveniently been there at the exact same time this man and I had found ourselves submerged under water?

Coughing and sputtering, the Rapture citizen remained on the floor desperately trying salvage his ruined glasses. Though I was eying him suspiciously from behind the porthole, no words were handed out. My next goal was Siren Alley; someone was messing with the controls. The process would've been much smoother if citizens simply complied. "Might I ask..." Cautiously the man spoke, "Jus' what're you tryin' to pull here?" A flicker of fear in his eyes didn't escape my detection as I snapped my head to face him. Both of us remained motionless. What ridiculousness was I indulging in? More pressing matters required my attention. "The silent treatment? Incredible. An' from Rapture's very-own Big Sister." Silent treatment? What did that mean? My back turned to him, I reached under the remains of one of the theater seats and felt around, producing some cobwebs, damp ticket stubs, and a first aid kit. "Listen kid, I know how your family ador—..." A first aid kit to the face shut him up for sure. I had to admit, this man aroused my interest to a certain point. There weren't many splicers like him running around. Without warning, a loud, foreign, noise erupted from the man. Laughter... like many of the Little Sisters, I had just never heard it in this sort of way.

"What?" I snapped menacingly, feeling oddly—what was the word—embarrassed? What right did he have to laugh at me? "Mother would not approve if I allowed the death of a Rapture citizen." A most solid explanation. Whether it satisfied him or not was none of my concern. I pivoted on the balls of my feet to fully confirm if Dionysus park had been drained or not. Judging from the no longer submerged theater, I could prove the statement as true. Water dripped down from the top balcony where I was to splash down upon the soaked theater seats below.

"There's somethin' awful familiar 'bout your voice." I turned, alarmed to find the man a foot away from me, "Not a lot o' Big Sisters talk you see. We could talk business, you an' I." He sounded as if he were ready to capture me and put me in a shop somewhere. Raising my rivet gun, I jammed it against his chest as a very obvious warning. His hands opened and raised, "Easy." Showing me he had no means of defense, he also took a much needed step back.

"Out of my way." The man's eyes suddenly widened into two perfect circles.

"Rainbow?" A deep frown creased my features, "Mac!" An electric spark darted across my brain and my weapon lowered. "My God, it's me. Sinclair. You don' remember do you kid..." What was he going on about? Aside from that momentary hesitation when he'd said 'Mac', my mind was focused on one thing—apprehending Delta.

A faint buzzing whirled around in my head, "Delta is heading your way. Eliminate the menace." How convenient. I would not fail. Sinclair was opening his mouth to say something again, but before he could, I leaped up onto the balcony railing. When I turned back to spare him a short glance, I clearly saw the amazement and wonder in the rims of his dark irises. What puzzled me was that there was guilt speckled in at certain angles. Why? What guilt did he have to feel? He was alive to appreciate the new Rapture. What more was he asking for? The man disappeared from my sights as I jumped down, landing gracefully and with minimal sound on the theater floor. Crouched over with one hand supporting my weight, I stood, contemplating a glance upwards.

How stupid for a thought such as that to cross my mind. That was enough interruptions for today. To assist in confirming my thoughts, a steady thumping noise vibrated through the empty theater. Standing at the entrance to the theater, just before the aisles, was my target. I knew it was him by the different model type, distinguishing him from the other Big Daddies. His steps halted immediately as the clear outline of a Big Sister came into view. And he was right to fear me, for I would be his demise. "Delta." One deep exhale was all it took for me to be able to release an ear splitting, triumphant battle cry as I charged forward, wild with power.

Delta instinctively raised his gun, letting loose a stream of bullets at my impetuous rush. Too slow... and expected. I sprang up and over, successfully dodging the bullets and turning my body so that Delta was beneath me. At the mercy of my rivet gun, I fired downward. A good amount of bullets smashed into his metal, worn headgear before I came to a perfect landing on the other side. "Ugh!" Delta let out a frustrated grunt of pain from behind me. This was going to be all too easy from my overestimation. I began turning around, but a sudden jolt froze my body in a single position. Scraggly blue sparks of electricity slithered across my vision and body, completely paralyzing me in a vulnerable position. Gritting my teeth, I savagely fought against the electrical current bounding movement. Agonizing pain spread across my ribs and upper legs from the rivets hammering against them. The hold was fading. I anticipated the moment. My fingertips wiggled.

As I dodged out of the way, shaky from the sheer voltage of the attack, but functioning, I screamed vindictively, driving my feet into his chest and leaping off. He bellowed fiercely again as his enormous metal body was flung back into the rows of theater seats from the impact. I worked quickly, flipping back across the room to perch atop a theater seat. As the blue metallic diver's suit commenced its hurried attempts to return itself to standing position, a transparent haze grew thick around my hands. With a single swing of my arm, four theater seats wrenched themselves from the ground and thrust forth at Delta. The giant drill was brought up as a cover for my relentless attacks. What a useless effort. A devilish smirk of satisfaction stole across my lips.

Through the objects being pelted at the target, I saw a blue liquid traverse through a tube connected to a tank on his back to his headgear. Was that... EVE? Yes, the monstrosity was using our supply of EVE to replenish his own. I scowled, increasing my pace of hurling theater commodities.

Second wave, third wave, fourth wave, fi—hold on... what?

All attacks ceased as a green fog dispersed across my vision. Theater chairs dropped midair, crashing to the floor. Odd interruption that had been. I blinked to clear off the green miasma, cursing myself for being distracted by such a silly thing. The telekinesis plasmid glowed on my hands once more. But just as three chairs rose into the air, they clattered back to the ground again. Where had he gone? This was absurd; no giant disappeared just like that! I aimed my gun in the direction of a soft rustle. My eyes landed on a Little sister. Her bright glowing eyes wide with question. Where had her Big Daddy gone? The small Gatherer tilted her head at me inquisitively, russet ponytail bouncing to the left. And yet, whispering at the back of my head, a voice told me that something was... off. Especially when the Little Sister pulled her arm back and smashed it—no—drilled it against my chest. As alarmed as I was from the excruciating pain, no attempt to harm the girl was made. Metal screeched and sparks flew in all directions from the damage being done to my suit. My boots clunked as I stumbled back in the emerald vision shade. How was she accomplishing this? Several breaths were taken to revive my lungs from the pounding they'd received.

Right then, a blast of cold air engulfed me, forming ice on the entire right side of my body. I leaned to my left, hoping for balance. My arm and leg froze into a icy numbness. The poison ivy colored haze began to dissipate. Confusion mutilated into unbridled ire as, through the fog, the Little Sister's child-like shape transformed into the towering Delta. He'd tricked me? Teeth clenching to keep from chattering, I felt the chilliness coat my neck and part of my face. Barbarically, I lashed out with my unfrozen appendage. The ADAM needle sliced him diagonally across the front. I kept at it—slicing, jabbing, cutting, and hobbling back on one foot. He would not win.

Stars exploded in my eyes as a large drill was swung at my face, snapping my chin back and sending my body flying for the wall. One moment I saw the ceiling, the next, I was staring at a departing Delta sideways from my position. No. No. No. He was leaving. The excess rubble falling on my head wasn't as troublesome as the storm within me. Hot sand shot into my lungs as I gasped for a breath, turning into agonized coughs. I was built for exertion, so why was this taking such a toll on me? The bastard had the nerve to walk away. All feeling was gone from my legs, breathing was a harrowing task, and moving was nowhere near fathomable.

And then... nothing.

**o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o**

**Thanks for manning through that C:**

**I OWN NOTHINNG~**

**Although, Big Sis Mac is a product of one of my late night escapades.**


	7. Stanley Poole

**Here we have another wonderful chapter. I wanted to get it up during CHRISTMAS, because of what I named this fanfiction. BUT OBVIOUSLY. THAT DIDN'T WORK. Please, read, enjoy, be nice? Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year everyone. **

**Experiment G1T8L1: Yes, everyone seems to be moving down this path of the memory recovering thing. Partial sounds good to me. Oh, poor Sinclair. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I appreciate it. **

**DreamOrNightmare****: Ahahaha, I was playing the game and my friend was there. She's pretty blunt, so she was all, "He's fat." Much to my dismay. I've been trying to improve on writing my action scenes. Since I was reading through my old fanfics and crying at the typos in the action scenes. Thanks for the reviiiew~ Love your story BTW.**

**Shadowelf144**** : Oh, Mac, it's not like she knows or anything, yeah? Heee, o3o I did beat her up a little bit in the last chapter though. Because, well, she did run headfirst into a fight with Delta. Thanks for reviewwiing. 3**

**Mio: GOT IT. Watch, you see Barney and Kirby somewhere in the next chapters. Yeah, he probably is, but it might just be a continuous thing. Plenty of pain and tears there. LOL. Thanks for dropping a review o3o**

**Music Fiend666: Well, okay, they make some horrible sound that goes something like MURYUUUUUREGHHHHHAAARUGH. I guess that could be considered talking? NOPES. I've played this game too many times and 50% of the reason was to study Sinclair's character. HEE. Thanks for reviewin' **

**Nukeman: Yeah. She dead man oAo**

**deganky: Dude, I totally smiled when I read this. And, as always, my mother thinks me strange for smiling at computer screens way too much. Thanks, stuff like this really motivates me. {/happehface}**

**I swear, there'll be action in the next chapter. FERSURE.**

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"You useless idiot, can't you do anything right?" Who was yelling at me? It certainly wasn't a voice I had heard before. A woman, perhaps? "There's nothing you can do." Someone gently said to me, "The doctor says that now it won't be long." I couldn't move, my limbs remained stationary. These people. They had no right to speak to me in such a tone. Why were they all in my head? Never before had I seen these images... and yet, they were familiar in some way. Bitterness welled up within me. I screamed then—out of frustration, anger, and... sadness? That sort of emotion was frowned upon. A foreign, and decidedly wet, substance slid down my cheek.

My eyes snapped open as I swatted it. A metallic clunk sounded when my hand smacked against my helmet.

"Oi! It ain't dead!" No. It sure was not. Everything hurt, to put it simply, but my fuel was the lust for revenge coursing through my veins. The three members of the family standing over me and poking me with a long object had backed up as I stood. Smoke might as well have been expelling out of my ears. Roaring in anguish, I launched past them. Cries of surprise arose understandably from the Rapture citizens. Their lanky forms stumbling back from my sudden burst of movement. My own breathing echoed in my ears uneven and ragged from my first confrontation with Subject Delta. Springing upwards, I grabbed a beam and hoisted myself up to perch on it. Brooding. Yes, that was a sufficient word. Acrobatically, I made my way across the next few beams, ducking under an entry way. With the assistance of my suit, I flew across the room with uncanny elegance. Minimal noise was made on my part. Delta. When I got my hands on him, I would tear him apart. I'd crush him into particles of unrecognizable dust.

I landed with a soft clunk on top of a ticket booth. A muffled, but alarmed yell of surprise came from within. For my own sake, and possibly the sanity of the person inside, I chose to ignore it. "Mac." I tried the word on my tongue. Sinclair had called me that. And for some reason, it had sent an awkward twinge across my chest. And then the matter of those voices in my head from earlier. Almost on cue, the door to the train next to the ticket booth slid open. Crouched low, on top of the ticket booth, I appreciated the shadow shrouding me. My heart began pounding as I saw who stepped off the train. Without thinking, I hopped from my situated place to land on the steps, blocking Sinclair from advancing any further. He gasped, stepping back in a hurry. "Sinclair." As if assessing whether or not to run back into the train compartment, he regarded me with a weary eye.

"That's a start, I 'spose." Nervously withdrawing, Sinclair was so on edge he could've fainted. I tilted my head inquisitively. Firstly, I had no intention of harming him, not unless he broke a cardinal rule of Rapture. "Didn' quite get a chance to thank you for savin' my life there, did I?" Saving his—? He must have misunderstood. I was merely complying to... "I would give you a friendly-like hug an' all, bu—." Hug?

"Hug?" I blurted, again without thinking. The man stopped mid-sentence and gave me an odd look.

"Your mind's all a'jumble Mac." He pressed his fingers to his temple, shaking his head. "A hug, kid... it's y'know?" My silence apparently prompted him to demonstrate by fist-ing his hands and pulling them inwards across his chest at a high speed.

"Do not call me that." I hissed venomously, taking a threatening step closer to him. My brain mulled over the hug concept for a some time. I'd heard the little ones mentioning it from time to time, but never had I really conducted one. Nothing to lose really. As Sinclair had done, I balled up my hands and yanked them roughly across my chest in a wide arc.

"Urgh!" In the speed of it all, my fist had slammed squarely against Sinclair's jaw, jerking his entire body back. The man struggled to maintain control of his feet. "Not quite wha' I was-uh, ahem." His mouth opened and closed, face twisted in a grimace. I stared, moderately intrigued by his reaction. Hand against his aching jaw, he took a step back. It didn't take too much of a fool to realize that he most definitely did not want to be in my presence. My statue-like demeanor didn't appear to be alleviating any of the discomfort in his features. "How 'bout we sit down an' 'ave ourselves a lil' civil talk?" No. A mental answer, but my body language should have been enough to convey the point. He took another step backwards, still rubbing his jaw. "No?" That's right; No. "You're makin' this awful difficult here, kid. Probably takin' pleasure in it even." The hand rubbing his jaw slowly slid to the back of his neck in deep contemplation. "Take this nice and slow then." What did that mean?

Automatically, I shifted one foot back and bent my knees defensively. Sinclair stiffened at my action. "Mackenzie Dawn." Every syllable was carefully emphasized as if they'd be drilled into my skull. Blank faced and unmoving, I allowed him to continue his game. "You never liked cilantro... only because it reminded you of your stepfather." Stepfather? I had a father? Daddy. Big Daddy? Why was it that when I repeated the words in my head, a sour chunk of bile rose in my throat. I swallowed, suddenly very unwelcoming of this... 'activity'. The long pause in his speech ensued as he slowly ambled to the left. My eyes never left him, "See this kid?" My eyes widened and my heart stopped at what he held up. A small black-ish creature dangling from a thread should not have been this frightening. Beneath the helmet, my face contorted into one of inexplicable mortification as the man got closer, minimizing the distance between me and that... thing.

As the creature's spindly legs began moving rapidly, my mind toppled over the edge as I held up my hand and fired, with perfect accuracy, five rivets. To my satisfaction, the little thing was nowhere to be found and Sinclair had staggered back to keep from being hit by a rivet. Angrily, I turned my gaze on him, the pounding of my heart vibrating my eardrums. Sinclair must have sensed the mistake, for he inched back even further, his hand open as if he were going to reach for something. "One last thing..." His hand disappeared into the pocket of his dark gray pants. "Found this among your personal effects." A crumpled piece of paper was held out to me in a highly cautious fashion. "O' course I didn't read it or anythin' like that. Figured it was important. And I do make it a point to respect someone else's privacy." Seeing as my mood was on the verge of snapping, I concluded that Sinclair considered himself lucky that I'd decided to snatch the scrunched up thing from his hands rather than rip his head off.

_Hey Sis._

_Sorry I couldn't make it home for Christmas, they called me out to the Base B station at that last minute. Dumb, I know. _

What was this? I... My heart was experiencing inexplicable pain.

_You're a college girl now, huh? Well, I guess you have been for a few years now. Something like that deserves a gift, doesn't it? No, just kidding, you didn't get me anything for college. (_:

He had been gone... gone for so long. It was now that I noticed the brown blotches and poor quality of the paper. There were a few noticeable rips along the edges too.

_But anyways, don't go touching any of my stuff now. I expect that to be back when I get there. That includes my games! And ipod! And laptop!_

An entire page of useless information in a letter. Why did I consent to reading this? I stole a glance up at Sinclair, then returned my eyes straight back down. As I was reading, I stopped at a particular section.

_Mac, listen. I promise when I get back, I'm going to take care of you. We'll buy ourselves a house. Sound good? You won't have to see them again. They won't fucking interfere with your life anymore. It'll be you and me bud._

Nicolas. My brother, how could I ever forget him? The obnoxious, arrogant, know-it-all of a brother. I was annoying, uncouth, and pissy, but he loved me. Everything I had ever wanted to be. Tears streamed down my cheeks, struck by the simple words on the page.

_You told me in your last letter that you wanted this game? I think its the right one. Bioshock 2? Hopefully it gets there by Christmas. I sent money to my friend Jeremy to buy it. You should be stunned by my effort._

"Nick." I whispered. Sinclair's eyebrows raised hopefully. A scream violently shook my vocal chords as I garishly swung my needle, catching Sinclair across the chest.

_I miss you Mac. And I love you. Wish me luck, yeah? Look forward to seeing your next letter. I gotta say though, your grammar could use some work. Later!_

How dare he? How dare he? The man stumbled back, his hand against the crimson spreading across his white button up. His face twisted in pain as he inspected the red paint running down his fingers. It was strange that I had noticed this during my head splitting migraine. A door was forcing itself open in my head, but I wouldn't let it. Maybe I was... scared? No. With all the force I could exert, I pushed it shut. My breathing wasn't steady. This man, this _Sinclair_ was not someone I wanted to be near. There was no telling what else he could [i]harmlessly[/i] hand over to me.

Defeated, utterly lost, I turned and ran.

o_o_o_o_o_o_O_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o

"Subject Delta, I have known for years of Stanley's betrayal here. And had forgiven him, but in compromising Eleanor now, he compromises his fate. You see, it was Stanley who turned you into Ryan. The security booth is open now. You may have your revenge."

It was as if a rope had wrapped itself around my waist and forced my body to turn back to the entrance. A burning hate and insatiable desire for revenge bubbled up inside my chest, threatening to explode. My arm itched with anticipation as I saw what lumbered through the door. Unfortunately, my prior injuries and thundering headache kept me at bay. How infuriating. Delta was within reach, but I was powerless. From my perch, my body tried desperately to recover for another battle. I was still shaking. What? I growled as Delta moved for the ticket booth. A muffled voice was making itself known on the inside.

"Lamb knew? No... !" Again I crouched in the shadows, piecing together the puzzle. I waited for the expected. But, for some unknown reason it didn't quite come. Leaning against the damp, peeling wall, I inched over to catch a glimpse of what was happening. There he was, a hulking mass of metal slowly ambulating from the ticket booth. Revenge was sweet? Wasn't it Delta? "Mm." There was a possibility my ankle might have been broken. Both my eyebrows went up as the train departed. I'd extract my revenge later just as Delta had upon Stan—wait a second. My eyes narrowed in disbelief. A slim figure poked its head from the open ticket booth. Their body was shaking with the intensity of a mouse in a cat's grip. This man was Stanley Poole, a man who'd contributed greatly to the downward spiral that was Delta's pitiful life. Despite this, how was this man still breathing? I blinked, dumbfounded and teed off to be wrong at my prior assumption of Delta grinding his wiry body into the dirty floor beneath him.

Curiosity settled itself next to the concept of revenge. I desired both to destroy Delta and to learn about him. Dangerous road to tread. My hand floated over my, recently quelled, pounding chest. It had received enough gratuitous abuse for today.

Courtesy of one Augustus Sinclair.

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Thanks for reading! Seriously.


	8. A temporary partnership

**Well poop. I haven't updated this in a long time. I realize that this is how I start out a lot of my intros. BUT I HAVE A REASON. Finals are coming up and school is kicking me in the butt. So anyways, if anything, there aren't more than 4 chapters left until the end of this. HOHO. Hope you guys like this one. **

**DreamOrNightmare: Yee, thank you! And thanks for always motivating me to keep continuing. Yes, Big Sister Mac can't hug to save her life. Poorbby. I had to make him good, I don't know, there has to be at least ONE good person in Rapture. Don't worry, Lamb will get what's coming to her. **

**MusicFiend666: Lolol, she's just forgotten how to do normal things and can only come up with one word replies. Awkward turtle o3o**

**Storyteller222: Ohh, thanks. Wanted to try out the first person shenanigans. Hope you like this chapter and thanks for reviewing.**

**Lourlani: Yaay! Awesome, totally boosts my unnatural lack of confidence. Thanks for reviewing.**

**Deganky: Awwwyeah! I usually don't like first person either, but I just read this book that was entirely in first person and I wanted to try it out myself. I'm so glad you like it.**

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What was so damn wonderful about Eleanor Lamb? Our savior and future leader of all that is Rapture. As much as my head willed it, I couldn't bring myself to like her. Then again, it was a task to bring myself to 'like' anyone. Carrying out orders was my first initiative. So, again, what was so great of Eleanor? Sitting there in her, surprisingly clean, white dress and glaring me down with her glassy eyes? The metallic walls groaned inaudibly at a sudden shift in their balance. Three screens, fuzzed over by static were suspended in one corner of the square room. Upon the soft linen sheets sat a young girl with short, dark hair, a bit on the messy side, as if she'd just woken up moments ago. Her gaze was locked with interest on my person standing in the corner of her room. I did notice one thing. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears she'd shed before my arrival.

"You don't look like the others. Who are you?" Her accent rolled out the words smoothly and evenly, disguising any weakness that might have been hiding beneath. I myself stood next to the sliding glass door. It was locked from the other side and it was under Lamb's jurisdiction that either of us enter or leave. By her question, I prayed she wouldn't pull a stunt similar to Sinclair's. The bed sank with her weight as she moved closer to the edge, her skin so pale and fair it might have made some ceramics jealous. I tensed as she rose and stepped towards me, her bare feet tapping gently against the floor. "I believe I asked you a question." Not firm enough to be considered commanding, but there was a sort of hope in her vocal swings that made me sick.

"That is of no importance to you." Gritting my teeth, I emitted a ferocious snarl to back up my words. I was required to watch her, observe her for any suspicious action against the family. But, why?

"Oh, but it is." Eleanor urged, stepping closer to me. "Your name. Tell me your name." Restraining my needle from stabbing through her stomach, I clunked against the wall behind me. Hands splayed open in excitement, eyes wide with an indescribable hope, the girl was being far too enthusiastic about this interrogation. After an eternity of hesitation, one syllable resounded in my helmet.

"Mac." My voice modified by the helmet, the word still managed to slip out untainted.

"Mac." Eleanor retreated to her thoughts as though dazed. At least she was wise enough to return my personal space to me. A needle to the torso might not have been allowed, but a slap across the face was inevitable. Before she could let anymore nonsense from that flapping mouth of hers, Mother dismissed me and, as expected, I bolted out of there to continue my duties as far away from this girl as possible.

–

"Oooh, you're quite the punctual one, aren't you? Is he here? Is he?" The constant whirring of the propellers situated above a floating screen, hovered in the air, just surrounding my head. "And you don't blabber nonsense as much as the others, I see." There was something incredibly 'off' about Gil Alexander's voice coming from the screen, which had nothing but an eye on it. I must say though, it wasn't just any eye, this one was flickering all over the place, as if it were searching for something, but couldn't locate it.

"No." A blunt, monotone response to his colorful, bouncy question. A deep, rumbling chuckle came from the screen, sparks flying from the rapidly spinning propellers.

"Good. Good." Mused the machine quietly to itself, wiggling about in the air. "You'd make a wonderful secretary." My breathing was steady under my suit. No longer could my injuries hinder my full capabilities. Delta was going to get what was coming to him, full in the face. A wicked scowl twisted on my lips. "Now shoo!"

–

"Where you headin' kid?" The alarm went off in my head to leap up and run faster than a Splicer on fire. Instead, I slowly turned to face my fate, who was currently rummaging through a pile of broken luggage.

"Stay away from me." I warned roughly. Sinclair stopped abruptly, pulling his attention from the bottles of Tom Whiskey and first aid kits spilling from the suitcases, with an incredulous look settling into his features.

"Wait a minute now." I resisted another urge to cant my head to the side at his words. "I'm the poor fellow who's still recoverin' from your sorry excuse for a hug." A legitimate frown crossed my face, "I oughta sue for personal damages." Unknown to me why I did so, my entire body shrank from the same emotion I'd felt the last time I spoke to him. A silence scooted in between us as he returned to his work, as if the threat that I was had just poofed into thin air. Using his knee as support, Sinclair lowered himself to the ground to get a closer look at his finds. "Whole bunch o' technological miracles the surface doesn't even have a clue 'bout. Like you." Was he speaking to himself? Again? "I could pile up a nice fortune from sellin' em." A sharp voice suddenly whispered into my ear.

"He's working with Delta. Eliminate him." A hushed, yet authoritative tone. Mother. Instantly, my weapon was held up and pointed at the man's skull, ready to burst it open. Sinclair snapped up, hands out defensively in front of him.

"Change of heart?" Though his query might have came off as conversational, I knew that his guard was up. "You wouldn't strike at an unarmed man, would you?" I would, and there was nothing standing between me and blowing his head off. Made the job easier, in my honest opinion. But, my gun didn't release any bullets.

"You and Delta." The older man raised a dark eyebrow, allowing a slow intake of breath.

"Guess that cat's outta the bag." Muttering to himself softly, the businessman straightened, looking me dead in the eye. Obscuration by my helmet didn't prevent the stare-down from making me feel extremely uncomfortable. There was something unnervingly powerful about his gaze, that he must have used more than once in a day. I then recalled him educating me about the twists and turns of business and how situations had to be handled with a swift hand. "I wouldn't worry much about our temporary partnership." The way he placed emphasis on the word 'temporary' irked me, faltering the stability of the gun.

"You mean, you would betray Delta?" A perfected pokerface took in my words. This should have been a good thing, it meant that Delta had no one on his side. I should have been overjoyed at this statement, but instead, a deep unsettling sense of doom clouded my thoughts.

"Lemme make it simple for you." Noticeably relaxing, "I don't plan on stickin' my neck out for anyone anytime soon. That sort o' thinkin'll just get you six feet under the ground, like my Grandaddy." Another frown, I wanted him to beg, not tell me more stories. "Crowin' on about how he was 'doin' it for the people'." This man was notorious for straying off topic and staying spot on at the same time.

"But..." Was I protesting? Did Delta truly deserve this? "You can't just.. betray him." Both Sinclair and myself were stunned by the sincerity and hurt in my words. Picking up on this, my demeanor switched entirely. My eyes narrowed dangerously behind my headgear. Pushing away my unnecessary opinions, my arm straightened again, the rivet gun perched on my armor stabilized. "Do you recall that letter you gave me." Confused, Sinclair nodded with exercised caution. "The person who wrote the letter was in a war." There was no sentiment evident in my explanation, but inside, a whirlwind ravaged my internal organs. "He's dead." I suppose I couldn't blame Sinclair for always going off topic. "Pray you don't cross paths with me again, Augustus Sinclair." Correct, I was giving him a chance to get out of my sight, disobeying a direct order from Mother. He wasn't working with Delta, not truly. Why did that spark resentment in me?

Whipping around, I began my departure. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Lies. A shameless lie. "Mac." An unknown force held me in place. "You're a good kid. Really y' are. Got a good head on your shoulders. I'd hate to see you end up with this sort of fate " He must have been referring to my drop of character a second ago. I ground my teeth again to keep from lashing out in a violent manner. "Be careful. I mean it." I didn't want to hear anymore. Why did he insist on deceiving me with empty words?

–

Networks of pipes winded and twisted on the ceiling, covered by broken concrete, worn by the years of abuse. The debris laden ground was damp and smeared with dry blood. In the safety of the shadow's blankets, I sat in the ADAM laboratories. The atrium was full of nothing but experiment tanks and controls that I wasn't going to make an effort to comprehend. Turmoil brewed deep within my being, threatening to shred me apart from my core. Who was I? My nightmares only had voices and blacked out faces. The more I had them, the more I loathed them.

"Daddy!" The anguished cry of a Little Sister who had lost their protector echoed shrilly through the air. My senses came back to life in a flash. Grabbing onto a pipe, I acrobatically swung myself onto a testing tank with a loud clunk. Easily, I weaved my slender body through another series of blockades, balancing on a high railing that was no wider than an inch. A clang reverberated off my surroundings from my metal suit coming in contact with my perch. There she was, face burred in hands, on her dirty knees, sobbing quietly for her fallen guard.

And there they were, emerging from their holes, the hungry wolves coming for the helpless lamb. I sprang into action, flipping into the air and landing with flawless precision next to the Little Sister who gasped in relief. My eyes brought themselves up to meet with her small amber ones. What got my attention was not the little girl, but the massive Big Daddy standing behind her. This one was not her initial Big Daddy, but one that had just walked up from out of nowhere. "Delta." I sneered, knowing his intention was to take the child for himself. There was another matter of the dozens of Splicers creeping up the perimeter. My round Big Sister Helmet turned from one problem to the other.

"Get them!" The Little Sister squealed with fear and delight. I decided to go with the lesser of two evils as I sent Delta a knowing nod. His mind registered the alliance I was willing to form and he turned away, covering my back. I inhaled, returning my perpetually focused eyes to the surrounding area. The Little Sister found herself a safe spot in between the two of us.

And it began.

The first Splicer wobbled out at a high speed from behind a pile of broken pillars and cement, tommy gun raised high. Three more popped out from the same place, boosted by the confidence the first one instilled within them. Lifting my black gloved hand, a bright orange-ish red flame bloomed on my palm. I hopped into the air, swinging my arm in a wide arc. The ADAM in my bones burned into a fire that shot from my hand in the form of 5 enormous meteors of that flew at the screaming Splicers. Their cries of pain and desperation only grew louder as their blackening flesh tore from their bodies in chunks, stretching their mouths open to a horrifying dilation. Agony ripped through their bodies as Delta released a stream of bullets and they gave a cacophonous scream, hearing the sounds of flesh tearing and a death cry as blood spattered against my suit.

And yet, they came, pouring out form every orifice of the body of Rapture. One charged boldly for me. Hissing, I widened my stance and leaned forward expectantly. A long, thick needle was thrust forth into the nearing Splicer, drawing forth a gurgling, choking cough. The limp attacker crumpled to the floor as its only support was withdrawn, legs and arms bending at impossible angles. This was much too stifling for me, being tossed into the very center of the chaos. That theory was further confirmed when a grand total of four Splicers pounced upon me at the same time, taking advantage of my preoccupied state. I screeched out in alarm as I toppled over, overwhelmed by the unprecedented weight. Against all my thrashing, one flew off and two more abruptly took its place.

A loud crash boomed as three oil drums, and part of a broken first aid machine, smashed into my restrainers. The only one that wasn't hit was riddled with rivets, courtesy of me. I sprang up, finding Delta standing close to me, his hand emanating with a pulsating, transparent aura. A huff popped from my mouth at the realization that he had been able to help me in a dire situation. Perhaps I was being too careless. After a brief glance at the other, both of us turned to face the next wave. This time, none of them would get within three feet of our little circle. Egged on by the Little Sister's passionate cheering, I whirled forth, slicing my needle against a flaccid Splicer's neck. A fountain of rotted blood sprayed out in consistent bursts.

As I weaved past a few dodged pipes to my next target; a woman whose lazily hanging jaw had seen better days, a horrendous drilling noise buzzed to life behind me, followed by a chorus of doomed cries. Midair, I twisted wildly, the foot of my metal suit taking the Splicer's already broken jaw clean off. Her tongue, still attached to the hole, wriggled momentarily before the thuggish Splicer fell face flat into the cement. Another spray of my weapon brought down two more. I turned to find Delta with a Splicer spinning at the mercy of the drill on his arm. The dead thing fell to the floor with a drill-shaped hole that spanned wider than his lanky body could handle.

Pure, raw, carnage.

Prying the frozen bony fingers from around my wrist, the final Splicer flopped over and I could have sworn he clattered against the hard floor. Controlling my breathing, I turned to Delta who had wasted no time in bringing the Little Sister to her hidey hole nearby. The small, intricate, opening in the wall that only a child could squeeze through. I tensed again, switching my mindset to its usual position. It was almost as if Delta was actually looking at the Little Sister. An enormous gloved hand rested against her head. My instincts slammed into me, guiding me forward, but... I didn't move. All the energy stored up in my being didn't transfer to my limbs. A blinding light swiped across my vision. That still wasn't enough to awaken my appendages.

"Thank you." A child's pure voice brushed against my ears right before the former Little Sister clambered up the hidey hole, with amazing upper body strength, and disappeared from sight. I stared blankly from behind the helmet, unsure of where my heart was at this very second, suddenly not doubting the existence of my emotions. My breathing filled my helmet and by the time I was able to sever my connection to my deep thoughts, Delta had left. Nothing but silence and the hollow clanging of the city's inner workings kept me company.

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I don't own anything oAo Except Mac. The poor thing.


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